


God Slayer

by Viking_woman



Series: Iwyn Lavellan: Not quite canon - branches off Iwyn's future [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Post Trespasser, Sibling Relationship, Solavellan implied, major character death implied, past Solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viking_woman/pseuds/Viking_woman
Summary: Years after the Inquisition, the former inquisitor gets some comfort from her brother after a terrible choice.





	God Slayer

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a question posed on tumblr: When it comes down to it, would Lavellan would kill Solas without hesitation, if he did not change his mind?
> 
> This is divergent from Iwyn Lavellan's main story. 
> 
> Originally published 3/8/2018

It is still dark when she makes her way up the old path. The wind whips her hair, up here on the naked cliffs. She leans against the rock behind as she sits, staring out across the dark sea.

The predawn light makes the stars fade into the sky.

She hears the familiar footsteps before she sees him, and then her brother is next to her. He sits, like her, and he drapes his blanket over her shoulders too.

“How are you?” Branwen asks. “I mean… I… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how I am just yet,” she says. “I’m not sure when I will figure it out. I’m… Thank you for asking, and thanks for coming up here in the dark.”

“You’re my sister, and you had to…” He stalls, and stares at the ground. “You saved the world, again.”

 “The first time it cost me my hand, the second time my heart. I’m tired of the world. Maybe I should get the Blight and go die in the deep roads with the Grey Wardens.”  

She shrugs, the hollow feeling inside is nothing like the elation when she defeated Corypheus. The ocean is dark and infinite.

“You don't mean that,” her brother says.

“I don’t mean that.”

She dislikes her own bitterness. She puts her palm on the ground, worn edges of the rock ledge beneath her fingertips. Exhales.

 “What happened? You can tell me, if you want.” Branwen puts his hand on her knee, a small warmth.

It comes out, like cup overflowing. Words stuck inside of her, when anyone else had asked what had happened, or how she felt about it.

“I didn’t even hesitate, Branwen. The others saw the god and were stunned by the power, unable to act. I saw the man, and I killed the man. I saw the man I loved, and I killed him. I didn’t have time to hesitate. There was no time for me to wait for him to change his mind. His spell was ready to destroy us all, and I had to act. I didn’t pause. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” Branwen says. No big words or pitying looks, it feels more earnest that anyone else. Something painful escapes her chest and she can _breathe_. She lifts her hand, she flexes it into a fist.

“They call me God Slayer, but I have killed no gods. I killed a man who pretended to be a god, and a god denying his own apotheosis.”

“They need a hero, and the name can be theirs. It doesn’t have to be yours.”

When did her little brother get so wise? He is a leader now, grown into his role with a quiet confidence. He understands carrying the welfare of others on his shoulders.

“There is room here for you,” he goes on. “You don’t have to stay, but you are always welcome. This is always your home. You don’t have to... you don’t have to be anything here.”

“Thank you,” she says, and she embraces him, and they sit in silence against the cliff, watching the sun rise.  

When the ocean has let go of the sun, Branwen stands, and she stands with him. The wind has changed, and the air smells green.

“I will be a moment,” she says. Her brother nods.

 

She walks to the edge of the cliff as Branwen’s footsteps falls away. The dawn has made the sky a brilliant pink, the sea tipped with silver foam.

She grips the jawbone necklace in her hand. Closes her eyes.

She sighs and puts it over her head, hanging heavy from its cords.

She draws the dagger from her belt. Sharp and expertly crafted, unlike anything else.  Two runes set in the blade. A marvel of arcane engineering. The magic dances inside it, the power hums. She can feel it, vibrating under her fingers.

God Slayer.

She flings it into the churning sea below.


End file.
